


Dream of Me

by AStandardName



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Subtle Romance, The Force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22043851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AStandardName/pseuds/AStandardName
Summary: The Mandalorian has to set course, and finds his plans changed.
Relationships: Cara Dune & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Cara Dune/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 202





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

Dream of Me

* * *

The Mandalorian tapped the key on his wrist-padd closing the loading ramp to the Razor Crest. The Baby's pod hovering next to him as he stowed his newly-made Disintegration Rifle. Din Djarin rolled his shoulder, streching out the areas his beskar armour tended to weigh heaviest before ascending up to the cockpit to make a quick exit from this back-world planet.

The Razor Crest's engines spooled up and the ship jolted up into the atmosphere as the Baby settled into his spot behind Din. The Mandalorian flicked through the nav-computer, tapping the screen and deciding what next.

“What do you think kid?” asked Din, his voice modulated, but soft for the youngling.

The Baby chirped as he reached forward for his favourite toy, the cap of the hyperdrive lever.

“I know. But we gotta decide first” said Din. “What do you think? The temple the Twi'lek mentioned?” he asked rhetorically, “or another supply run?”

The Baby chirped again, followed by a low burble.

“Yeah, the Temple.” said Din tapping on the nav-computer and quickly plotting a course. “Few days, not too bad” said Din engaging hyperspace. Inside his helmet Din smirked as he unscrewed the cap and handed it to his youngling ward. Somewhere in the back of his mind the Mandalorian felt unsettled, his equilibrium felt off. He glanced over his shoulder at the Baby, who was now playing happily with the round lump of metal. No, it wasn't the Baby's presence that was causing this feeling – Din has long accepted his role, it was the Mandalorian way. Much like his mentor before him, he too now had a duty to the youngling. This is the way.

Din turned back to the hyperspace flash outside the cockpit and refocused his mind. He began taking a mental inventory of the weapon and food aboard the Razor Crest; yet still the unease encroached. He continued on his list and when he excused his mental count of every blaster, disintegrator, and matching chargers he moved onto his maintenance schedule for the Crest. His fore-guidance engines would need a refit within months; otherwise the Crest would fly true for the foreseeable future.

The onboard day-cycle passed slowly, and Din finished up cleaning the charred stun-prongs on his end of his new Disintegration Rifle. The loading port on the new Rifle was a little lower, but this was not a cause for issue; the Mandalorian could still load and fire with ease; even under fire. Eventually the Mandalorian settled back into the cockpit chair and glanced back at the Baby. The Baby was sleeping deeply giving Din feeling of comfort as he shifted back into his seat and flicked off the internal display on his helmet. He closed his eyes and slowly drifted into a shallow sleep.

* * *

_Cara shifted in her seat, blood pooling on the floor around her. Another fist slamming into her swollen face. A white gloved fist. And Imperial fist. Her blood sprayed the wall as she laughed up at the white helmet. Her foot slammed down and her head drove up into the white helmet. The faceless Stormtrooped fell to the floor unconscious. Her hands still bound, Cara could do little to stop the rain of strikes that landed next._

“ _Never even met a Mandalorian” said Cara with a smirk as she felt another blow across her face._

_* * *_

The Mandalorian bolted upright, firing up his helmets display. “What the hell was that?” asked Din shaking his head free of the nightmare. He glanced over at the Baby who was still deep asleep. The feeling of unease burned bright in the back of Din's mind as he quickly flipped on the nav-computer and re-charted his course to Nevarro. He reached into the Baby's hover-pram and retrieved the cap to the hyperdrive level and within minutes shifted course to backtrack to Nevarro.

Din felt his hands itching, he couldn't tell why. He only ever felt like this before blaster bolts were flying. He let out a deep sigh, at least the course change had appeased the unease. In place of unease he felt an eagerness and desperation to land the Crest.

He shook his head violently trying to rid himself of all though. There was no logic or reason for this. He knew it, yet he had to settle this feeling in the back of his head. He recalled his first lesson from his mentor; if you intuit something, trust your heart over your eyes. The Mandalorian took in a deep breath and exhaled through his nose, slowly steadying his heart rate.

* * *

The Razor Crest came to an easy land just outside of town as per the Mandalorian's norm. He climbed down from the cockpit and saw the Baby climbing up into his hover-pram.

“You coming?” asked Din slinging his Disintegration Rifle over his shoulder and quickly checking the charge on his blaster pistol.

The Baby chirped and his ears waggled, which Din took to mean an affirmation.

“C'mon then” he said, the helmets modulator not betraying a tremor in his voice.

The Mandalorian walked down the ramp, the hover-pram at his heels. He quickly tapped his wrist-padd and the ramp slowly closed, the ships defences powering up to fend off any would-be ship thieves. The Mandalorian strode through town, his beskar glinting in the slowly lowering sunlight. He glanced about the streets; they quickly emptied. Din tapped his wrist-padd enabling the thermal-tracking overlay on his display. The whole town was lousy with footprints; all standard issue Imperial. Din tapped the wrist-padd again disabling the overlay, and once more closing the cover on the Babys pram.

“Sorry kid.” muttered Din as the cover slid closed.

The Baby burbled, turning his head at an odd angle to try to keep the Mandalorian in sight as the cover slid fully closed and locked into place. Din glanced back up the main street and saw door to the cantina swing open. He almost reached for his blaster until he saw the confident cocky stride of Greef Karga strolling down the street towards him, his arms wide and inviting.

“Mando!” said Karga, a false smile plastered on his face as he approached the Mandalorian. “How are you my friend” he said embracing him.

“How many?” asked Din tapping his wrist-padd again setting the hover-pram to shift to the side of the road.

“Two dozen. Whole platoon” said Karga, “Arrived five days after you left. I'm supposed to lead you into their killbox about half-way up the road.” said Karga in a hushed voice.

“Where is Cara?” asked the Mandalorian pulling back awkwardly from the embrace.

“Basement of the cantina, in a cell. I don't know if she's still alive Mando, we should just get the hell out of he--”

“When I move, take the kid and go right down this alley” said Din jerking his head subtly towards the entrance of the alleyway, “and work your way around to the back of the cantina.”

“And where are you going?” asked Karga.

“In” was all the Mandalorian said igniting his jet-pack and un-slinging his Disintegration Rifle. The Mandalorian activated his thermal-overlay on his display and launched up thirty feet into the air and began to hover. Glancing around the square outside the cantina, the Mandalorian spotted the groups of Stormtroopers laying in wait in buildings around the square. He gave a smirk as he jetted forwards over the square. He fired his Disintegration Rifle, the bolt blasting in a window and taking out a Stormtrooper. The square lit up with blaster-fire as they all tried to spot where the Mandalorian was firing from.

Din landed with a slight skip and ducked behind a cooling duct on the roof of a building opposite the cantina. “One” he counted off to himself as he ducked back out of cover and fired his rifle again, blasting through the stonework and disintegrating another Stormtrooper. “Two.”

The building the Mandalorian was perched on was lit up with blaster-fire as he fell back and fired his jet-pack. He drew back from the building and circled around. The Stormtroopers maintained their steady stream of poorly aimed blaster-fire as the Mandalorian swooped in low and hard through the square, smashing through a window into a room filled with Stormtroopers. The Mandalorian skidded across the floor on his back and drew his blaster pistol; with quick blasts he felled four Stormtroopers who has been firing from the windows. “Six” he counted, standing up in a cloud of dust.

* * *

The Mandalorian staggered down the stairs into the basement of the cantina after clearing the square. As he rounded the corner he nearly ran face first into a Stormtrooper. He slammed his heel into the chest of the unfortunate Trooper who tumbled back down the stairs. The Trooper tried to sit up and reach for his blaster only for the Mandalorian to fire a shot into the Troopers chest without a second glance. “Twenty three” said the Mandalorian stepping into the room. An unseen smile grace his face as he saw Cara Dune choking the last Stormtrooper through the bars of her cell with the chain on her manacles. The Trooper kicked in vain as Cara gave his head one final jerk, finishing him. His body dropped to the floor as the Mandalorian dropped into a seat, watching Cara as she stepped back from the bars gave Din a wide smile.

“Didn't think you'd be coming back” said Cara.

“Wasn't planning on it” said the Mandalorian with a deep exhale. He shifted uncomfortably in the seat as he felt the deep throbbing of the places he had taken some blaster-fire in the square.

“You gonna let me out?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

The Mandalorian raised his blaster and blew through the lock with three clean shots. Cara booted the door open and stepped into the room. She quickly pilfered the locking-tag to her manacles and quickly rid herself of her shackles. Cara turned to Din and was about to say something snarky when the sound of blaster-fire came from upstairs.

Din bolted out of his seat and and strode up the stairs followed by Cara who was now supporting a Stormtrooper blaster-rifle. The pair entered the cantina, weapons drawn only to find Karga standing over a pair of smoking, dead Stormtroopers.

“You said two dozen, that was twenty six” said the Mandalorian, his voice weary.

“So I miscounted” said Karga defensive. Behind Greef Karga floated the hover-pram of the Baby. Din tapped his wrist-padd twice opening the cover to the pram, to be greeted by the sleeping face of the Baby.

* * *

“So what happened?” asked the Mandalorian as he watched people pouring in and out of the cantina. After two Imperial occupations of the town, many were packing up shop and heading off.

“After you left, everything was quiet” said Cara tending to the bruises and cuts on her torso. The Mandalorian tilted his head imperceptibly to the side as made effort to avoid glancing at Cara's exposed stomach. “Then fourty or fifty Imps came into town, between me and a few of Karga's hunters we got a good twenty of them. The hunter who was covering the back of the cantina ran off, I got pinned in crossfire and then they lobbed some stun grenades in. The rest you can guess” said Cara. “Your turn. Why you back so soon?”

“You won't believe me” said Din trying not to think about how the past weeks must have been for Cara.

Cara snorted. “With what the kid can do” she said nodding to the sleeping Baby in his hover-pram, “I'd believe most anything”.

“Had a dream. You were in that cell being beaten. You headbutted one knocking him out as they were interrogating you” said Din, his modulated voice low. The Mandalorian watched as Cara's throat tightened as she stared at him, her eyes narrowing.

“That was the other day. When Karga was trying to convince them that you were going to come back soon and I was trying to goad them into finishing me off” said Cara her voice unsteady. “You saw that?”

“Right down to the swollen lip and eye” said Din remembering the beaten bruised appearance of Cara in his dream.

“And so you came back to help us” said Cara nodding, a smirk returning to her face.

“Help you” corrected the Mandalorian making Cara's hand stall for a moment as she dabbed bacta-paste on the infected burn on her hip.

A silence enveloped the pair as the bustling continued around the cantina. Cara thought about standing to get a drink, but decided to focus on her injuries first. The Baby made a soft burble as it shifted sideways in its sleep.

Cara and Din both felt a heat in the back of their heads for a moment as the Baby made a soft chirp.

“So... not a dream then?” asked Cara nodding at the Baby.

“Seems not” said the Mandalorian stoically.

“You know when you decided to come?” asked Cara, her eyes narrowed on the beskar helmet for any clue as to the Mandalorians thoughts.

“Wasn't far of my way” he lied.

Cara nodded as she hid the smirk. There was no sense calling him out. She continued applying the bacta-paste as Din stood and went to pour a drink from the bar before it was packed away on a speeder. Cara slumped back into her chair and rested her injured leg on a third chair. The Mandalorian walked back over and placed the drink in front of Cara and sat back into his chair once more with a deep satisfying groan. He placed his foot up on the chair between himself and Cara, both sharing the makeshift foot-stool. Cara took a deep sip of the drink as she chose her words carefully.

“Looks like I'm out of a job” said Cara nonchalant.

“How so?” asked Din.

“Who wants an bodyguard who gets the boss captured by Imps?” said Cara.

“You did more than most could've” said the Mandalorian.

“Still” shrugged Cara. The Mandalorian glanced at the Baby who remained asleep, breathing deeply. The dream that led him here played on his mind as he felt his heart-rate picking up.

“There's room on the Razor Crest” said Din looking away from Cara, “if you want”. Cara let out a deep chuckle before breathing a deep sigh.

“I thought you were gonna make me ask” she said with a broad grin kicking his feet off their foot-stool with a firm nudge.

“Instead you made me ask” said the Mandalorian rolling his eyes. Somehow Cara knew he had done so as she drank down the last of her drink.

“I'm not a nanny” she said leaning back into a negotiating stance.

“You got your _clerical issues_ with your chain code sorted?” asked Din.

“Yeah Karga handled it” said Cara.

“Partners then?” asked Din.

“Partners” said Cara raising her empty cup with a wide grin. Unseen, Din wore a soft smile to match.


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

Synchronicity

* * *

Din slammed his helmet forwards into the face of the ragged hunter before driving his boot into his chest. He fired off two blaster shots before turning to Cara.   
  
"Move" he shouted as he turned to cover the mouth of the alleyway Cara had just vacated. Cara sprinted past the Mandalorian, her auto-blaster at the ready. Din fired off two more sets of blaster shots as he backed up towards Cara.   
  
The pair effortlessly cut their way down the alleyway filled with heavily armed hunters. Falling into an easy sync wasn't easy on the Razor Crest, but here, under fire there was nothing easier.   
  
Cara's auto-blaster lit up the alley as another two hunters fell, the holes in their torsos smoking.   
  
"Door left" called Cara as she stepped aside. The pair switched angles in perfect coordination that could easily be mistaken for a practiced ballet. Din flicked a det-charge onto the door, blasting in inwards as the duo stepped over the threshold into the darkened, Hunters base.  
  
The room soon filled with blaster fire as the pair worked their way around opposite edges of the room, clearing the hunters with precise bursts from their blasters. Soon the last hunter in the room fell, shot from both the front and rear, one shot each from Cara and Din.   
  
A deep relief washed over Din as he saw the Baby's hover-pram in the corner through the hazy smoke.   
  
"Over here" called Din nodding towards the pram.   
  
Cara strode across the room in quick steps and tapped the control panel on the pram opening the cover, revealing the familiar and thoroughly perplexed face of the Baby.   
  
"You gave us a scare kid" said Cara syncing the pram to her wrist-padd so it would hover along with her on the move. Din kept the doorway covered as he stepped over to Cara and the Baby.   
  
"We gotta move, there's more coming" said the Mandalorian.   
  
"Why, you getting tired?" teased Cara switching charge packs on her auto-blaster.   
  
A shot rang out from the Mandalorian's blaster pistol dropping a hunter as he peeked through the door.   
  
"Who's tired?" said Din, the snark hardly disguised by the modulator. A wide smirk graced Cara's face as she stepped back towards the exit firing her auto-blaster at the oncoming wave of desperate hunters.

  
* * *

  
  
The Razor Crest made a swift exit of atmosphere as Cara placed her weapons back into the racks. She tapped the controls once, closing up the rack and sealing away the weapons. The Baby chirped softly as he climbed slowly along the metal benches.   
  
Cara gave the Baby's head a soft brush with her fingertips as she passed before ascending the ladder to the cockpit.   
  
"How we doing on fuel?" asked Cara dropping into the co-pilots chair slightly behind Din.   
  
"We'll manage" said Din, his voice inscrutable.   
  
Cara hummed in acknowledgment as she lifted her feet up onto the console in front of her. She smirked as his helmet turned slightly. Cara tried to imagine a frown on his face as he eyed her choice of foot rest.

An easy silence filled the cockpit as Din plotted a course far from the system. He leaned forward slightly and slowly throttled up the hyperdrive, jumping them to the desination. Cara let out a soft breath as the tension from the earlier battle fell from her shoulders as she felt her muscles loosening up.   
  
She felt warmth in the back of her head as she leaned further back into the chair. The soothing heat radiated out along all the nerves of her body as she trailed her eyes over the Mandalorian's helmet.   
  
Her eyes traced the dips and grooves of the silver beskar. At first Cara couldn't help but try to picture the man under the helmet, but meeting the Armourer in the tunnels of Nevarro changed that perspective.   
  
Her estimation of the mysticism surrounding the Mandalorian's only seemed to increase after that encounter. Cara frowned as she recollected the waver in Din's voice as he asked her to leave him behind after being half blown apart on Nevarro.   
  
He was a Mandalorian. His face was his helmet, she thought as her fingers twitched under the impulse to touch the beskar.   
  
"You're staring" said Din, his modulated voice soft.   
  
"Mmm" acknowledged Cara as she turned her eyes back to the space in front of the Crest. Once more the burst of warmth radiated through her body.   
  
Cara's mind tried to trace the lingering waves of warmth. She felt her heart rate slowly climb as she tried to ignore the worries that she'd never felt this unusual feeling before. Her pulse-point rocketed in her neck as she glanced over at the back of Din's helmet.   
  
She saw the rise and fall of his chest through the beskar, it was sharp and more erratic than usual.   
  
"Cara" said the Mandalorian, the modulator in his helmet giving away nothing.   
  
Taking a sharp inhale Cara felt her senses softening. The edges of her vision were fading as she shook her head.   
  
"Cara!" shouted Din, who to Cara's surprise was now standings stooped over her shaking her shoulder.   
  
She shook her head as she grabbed onto the Mandalorian's forearm and levered herself up from the chair. Her head collided with Din's helmet as she stood.   
  
"Damn" hissed Cara as she held her forehead and back up gaining a little space.   
  
"What was that?" asked Din the bewilderment evident even through the helmet.   
  
Cara glanced around and spotted the Baby, its little head poking up through from the lower deck. The Baby tilted its head as its ears waggled lightly, its eyes staring into Cara's own. The Baby burbled softly as she narrowed her eyes.   
  
"The Baby?" whispered Cara as she turned to Din.   
  
"Hmm" said Din approaching the baby, his mind following a similar train of thought. Din bent down a scooped the baby up into his arms as he examined the child. "You doin' that kid?"  
  
The Baby's ears turned down as the Baby stared up into Din's helmet with what could only be described as a sheepish expression.   
  
Cara's eyes followed the Baby closely as Din turned and placed him into cradle next to the pilot seat. She gave the Mandalorian a significant look as he turned back to her.   
  
"I don't know either" said Din answering her unspoken question.   
  
She settled herself back down into the co-pilots seat as she focused her eyes on Din. She felt a wave of calm wash over her. Not like before, that warmth came with the feeling easily likened drugged. This calm was easy and comfortable. This was the calm of a Mandalorian.   
  
The Baby's eyes drooped as sleep overcame it. Cara slowly eased her feet back up onto the console as Din sat stiffly in the pilot’s seat. His posture was like that of a statue or perhaps a shiny scarecrow Cara thought with silent amusement.   
  
The Mandalorian let out an audible snort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the positive comments. Glad to know this ship is not manned alone. To stations!

**Author's Note:**

> I know. Not a popular ship, but damn that last episode sealed it. Sorry for any cannon I tread over. 
> 
> Disclamer: I'm not Disney, I'm pretty sure they own the copyright to my socks too along with everything else.


End file.
